A sliver thread
Of thoughts
that runs through souls.
Why am I here,
they whisper,
and why are you?
For what purpose do we breath
and laugh
and cry?
–
Others would think that
Chance is the god to be served.
That Chance is what gave us souls
and a mind to exercise
a will.
Chance is what makes us
question why we are here.
Why we are.
–
I look into the eye of Chance,
an empty chalice of
man’s wisdoms,
our greatest minds,
and I see nothing.
Nothing but the keen of
a mother who has lost her only child.
Nothing but an empty vessel
to crawl inside and
beat the walls of.
–
The god Chance stares bleakly past me,
ignoring my questions,
my pleadings,
my demands for answers
for why I cannot see
beyond the reach of my fingers,
and why I cannot know
the secrets of the present that
I used to call my future;
I weep at its feet.
–
Why do you speak to that stone
as if it will answer?
–
I raise my face,
seeking a voice in my head.
I am its servant, I gasp,
it is my lord.
–
My world is in shadow
by the breadth of a great eagle
blocking the sun. It cries
and I cry,
clutching my ears.
Feathers run through my vision,
and I no longer
see what I was serving.
–
Wings envelope me,
pull me close.
–
Daughter,
are you listening?
–
I do not answer.
–
Daughter! The voice thunders
in my head,
in my heart.
Do you believe that
I am capable?
Or do you wish
to sit at the feet
of this thing you made
in place of me?
—-
The noise of questions,
the cacophony of will
and doubt
subsides into a
soft hum.
An ultimatum.
And I listen.
Do you believe that I
am competent
to make the life created
by my hands
worth living?
Do you believe I will not
forget?
That you will never
be small enough to slip
through my fingers?
–
Am I faithful?
–
And
in that stillness of His right arm
I ponder two answers.
And I know then that
there is only one.
–
I release my whip
and reigns
I have used to direct,
from my cramped hands.
I can no longer find my stone God.
I can no longer hear it
whispering of fear,
or uncertainty.
I close my eyes as I feel
a stirring
in my throat.
–
With my freed palms
I reach up and
remember
how to sing.
